


i've been dreaming of

by rumpledlinen



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledlinen/pseuds/rumpledlinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've missed you, too, Jess," Andrew says, because he doesn't care how the internet's going to interpret that (correctly, probably), doesn't care that he's ignoring the pretty blonde with the microphone. Because Jesse's a star now but he's still looking at Andrew like he did then, and that has to mean something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've been dreaming of

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt _red carpet proposal_. um. this happened, i guess?

"Andrew," Jesse whispers, sounding absolutely happy, and grips his hand tight.

It's been five years since _The Social Network_. Five years, the ending of two major relationships (Shannon and Emma; and he loved both of them with all of his heart except that he didn't, not _all_ ), and Jesse still makes his heart race.

"Jess," and his face splits into a grin. He hugs him right there, on the red carpet, and Jesse all but melts into him. (He's single, too. Andrew knows these things, because he's a maudlin drunk who likes Googling all of his exes. And Jesse, who was never an ex but might have been, given time and a chance and a thousand other things.)

They stand next to each other on the red carpet; Andrew doesn't really give a fuck if they get in trouble, if they're not quite supposed to be with each other, being in different movies and everything. They stand together because they can, because it's been ten years and Andrew's missed his presence like a limb.

The interviews they do are next to each other, they make sure. One of the interviewers, a pretty blond woman, smiles at them, sort of indulgent.

"This is kind of a reunion, isn't it?"

Andrew laughs, shaking his head. "It is, it's - wow. Wicked."

"How's it feel to see each other again, after so long?" and Jesse's interview must have ended because he's next to Andrew now, eyes bright. 

"Wonderful," Jesse says before Andrew can (and that's something he's missed; Jesse becoming more assertive, his voice not shaking when he talks). "I've missed him."

Andrew flashes back to a time five years earlier, with interviews much like this one. He gives Jesse the same look now that he did then.

Except - except that Jesse smiles, a little hesitant and a lot happy, and looks back at him.

"I've missed you, too, Jess," Andrew says, because he doesn't care how the internet's going to interpret that (correctly, probably), doesn't care that he's ignoring the pretty blonde with the microphone. Because Jesse's a star now but he's still looking at Andrew like he did then, and that has to mean something.

*

After that, they fall together just like old times.

Andrew almost wants to call Emma, to complete the picture (but when he thinks about Emma his heart hurts and he remembers tear-stained cheeks and a whispered _so that's it, then?_ that broke his heart then and breaks it now). He can't call Emma; this isn't then, this is now.

Jesse's happy, now, happier than Andrew's seen him. He's on some sort of medication but Andrew doesn't pry because he's (and he sounds like a broken record, but) _happy_ , his smiles real and his laugh genuine.

"So this - we're friends, yeah?" Jesse asks him, and there's something just a bit off in his voice. Then, it really sounds like during filming.

Andrew loves him, in that moment. In all the moments, really. 

"'Course we are, Jess," and he bumps their hips and pretends not to see Jesse's face fall.

*

Jesse's the one that kisses him, first.

Andrew would be lying if he said he weren't surprised; of course he is. He's spent years telling himself it can't be, couldn't happen, because sometimes people are meant to fall in love but not be together. 

But Jesse kisses him, smiling against his lips, and when he pulls away he's flushed. "I'm - uh," because Andrew didn't kiss him back and Jesse's happy now but he's always been scared.

Andrew shakes his head, and pulls him in, kissing him hard, as though trying to consume him.

Jesse lets out a soft little moan and grips his shoulders, tight. "Fuck," he whispers when they part, and Andrew just grins down at him.

*

(The night goes something like this -

Andrew's at Jesse's flat, puttering about like he used to, and they're just like old times but now with kisses. It's as though now they're aware they can have this, they can't get enough; because it's not only Andrew leaning in, hands gripping at Jesse's waist. It's Jesse, too, smiling and laughing and gasping out these delicious little sounds.

Andrew wants - he wants, fuck. He wants to fuck Jesse, wants to get him spread out and naked on the bed, wants to paint lines down his body with kisses. He wants to suck him off till Jesse moans his name - and -

But he can't, won't. He's waited too long for this, he's not going to ruin everything by going too fast.

Jesse smiles at him, at the end of the evening, and he blurts out - "I want - do you want to fuck me?"

Andrew stares at him, wide-eyed.

"Shit," Jesse breathes, and then, "I didn't say that right."

"Yes," Andrew says.

Jesse frowns. "I - oh. _Oh_."

" _Yes_ ," and that's all Andrew can say before he kisses him, hard, pushing him back against the couch.

Jesse giggles (fucking giggles, and Andrew is so gone he can't handle it) and pushes at him a bit. "I have a bed, you know."

"Mmm, too far," Andrew breathes, pushing Jesse's shirt off his shoulders, "you might decide this is a bad idea between here and your room and then where'd I be?"

There's a long moment of silence. _Shit_ , Andrew thinks but doesn't say. 

"Do you really think I'd leave you?" Jesse asks, voice too-soft. "Or - do you think I should?"

"No, of course not." Andrew cracks a smile. "I mean, this is your place, after all."

"Andrew." His voice is soft, chastising. "Come on."

He nods. "I know." A beat. "Of course I don't think you should, Jess."

"Because," and he pushes them up so that he's hovered over Andrew now, and there's the barest smirk on his lips, "I've wanted this - for a very long time." He rolls his hips down, and Andrew tilts his head back, moaning. Jesse leans down to suck a mark into his neck, biting just a bit. "Do you?"

"Yeah - _yeah_." Andrew'd never thought it'd be like this; Jesse over him, being the one to push him into the couch, but he likes it, wants more. He grabs Jesse's hips, tilts up. "I do."

Jesse grins, almost feral. "Good."

The noises Jesse makes are brilliant; he wraps his legs around Andrew's hips and tilts his head back and moans, and he comes silently but his fingernails dig into Andrew's shoulders.

 _I love you_ , Andrew wants to say later, but he doesn't; he traces the lines of Jesse's face and doesn't say a word.)

*

Life goes on.

They don't go in the public eye, at first; they're not ready for that, though Andrew's out and Jesse's _getting there_ (to use his words). Andrew doesn't begrudge him. He'd wait a lifetime if it meant he got to hold Jesse at night, to kiss him when he wakes up. He's a twelve-year-old girl, it appears, but. He doesn't quite mind that, either.

They have three weeks of nothing but the two of them; the press junket's over and neither of them are filming.

And then Jesse gets an offer to be in a film - it's great, wonderful, and it's going to make him more of a star than he already is. 

He grins at Andrew when he tells him, hands shaking, and says _they say I'm going to be the lead_ like it's something happening outside of him, because of other people rather than himself.

(Andrew wants to say _no_ , wants to tell him that it's only his work and never anyone else's, but Jesse looks too fragile, then, to defend himself against allegations of his beauty. And so Andrew is silent.)

"Do you think I should?" Jesse asks him, and Andrew can tell, in that moment - he knows that Jesse values his opinion, possibly more than anyone else's; that he's going to seriously consider Andrew's words, no matter what they might be.

(And he takes a moment to think of saying no - to convince Jesse to stay here, with him. They're both richer than they have any right to be. They can live together, get a house in some small, secluded area. They can be with no one but each other if they want and no one can tell them otherwise.

Because he loves Jesse, with everything in him; he loves him when he wakes up and when he goes to sleep and all the bits in between.

And - he loves him enough that he wouldn't do that to him, deny this opportunity for selfish reasons.)

The answer, really, is obvious.

"Yeah, you should," Andrew says.

Jesse swallows. "They're filming in - um. In Ireland."

Andrew's eyes widen a bit. They've been living in New York together; that's where the last Spider-Man is going to be shot, that's where Jesse's built a life for himself.

"Oh," Andrew says, and then, "how long would it be?"

"I don't know." Jesse's fingers curl around the edges of the script, his face tense. "I shouldn't take it, right? I should stay here with you and - and we can be happy and I can get other jobs, there'll always be other jobs."

It's too much like old times for Andrew to bear. He reaches out, smooths down Jesse's hair, smiles. "You should do it."

"But what about this?"

Andrew's grin widens. "I've loved you since _The Social Network_ ," he says, "and that was five and a half years ago. I think I can handle a little bit more."

Jesse's eyes are downcast, but Andrew can see the pleased tilt to his smile. "You - um."

"Love you? I do." He cares whether Jesse loves him back or not, but that's not the important thing right now. The thing to do is make sure Jesse's okay, that he's not about to throw his career away for Andrew.

(But _god_ , he loves that Jesse would, even if he shouldn't.)

"I'll do it, then." Jesse's hands shake but they almost look determined, in and of themselves. "I'll - thank you."

Andrew grins. "Anytime, love."

Jesse bites his lip, and tilts his head toward the bedroom door. "Want to fuck?" he asks.

(Andrew's never really been thrown off by anything Jesse does; they've always known each other disturbingly well.

But every once in a while Jesse says something to completely throw him off.

Andrew loves it and hates it in roughly equal amounts.)

"Yeah," he says, and he's laughing when Jesse pushes him down on the bed.

*

The movie doesn't start filming for a few weeks yet; Jesse was the first one cast, the only one who was a sure bet from the beginning.

And so they continue their odd little life. They get recognized, apart and together, and the internet just about explodes with _JEWNICORN REUNION!!!_. Andrew laughs at these and Jesse just chews at his lip, shaking his head when Andrew asks him what's wrong.

It's comfortable and tense all together, and Andrew can't help but feel that something's going to break soon.

(Because Jesse's not nearly as calm as he's pretending to be, Andrew knows it. One of these days, it'll all get to be too much.

He only hopes he's going to be enough to help Jesse down, whenever it happens.)

*

When Jesse does leave, it feels almost anti-climactic, after all of Andrew's worrying.

"I'll be back soon," Jesse says. His voice is brittle, and he swallows too many times and grips Andrew too tightly to fool him.

Andrew lets it go, though. "You will," he says, voice pitched low, and it's worth it to see the way Jesse's face darkens, his breathing comes out more quickly. "And I'll be here when you get back."

"But you're filming -"

"In New York." Andrew grins, and nods toward the airport. "You'd better get in there."

Jesse nods.

Andrew'd walk him in, but he's afraid of what he might do (because the reporters are bound to catch any kissing going on, and Andrew can't have that, can't do that to Jesse before he's ready). And so he smiles, gives Jesse a kiss that leaves them both breathless.

"Right," Jesse says, swallowing. "What if I just didn't take the job?"

Andrew shakes his head. "You're not going to do that." He nods toward the door. "Jess, get out of the car."

"You can't leave me," and this is quicker, more forced, "you can't, all right, I know that there are thousands of people - beautiful people who are - but you can't leave me when I'm not here to defend myself, okay, you have to promise."

Andrew's a bit taken aback, but Jesse looks absolutely shattered and so he lets it go. "I - I wouldn't do that, Jess," he promises.

Jesse looks up at him from beneath his fringe. "You promise?"

"Of course."

Jesse gives him one last kiss and then he's out of the car.

(An hour and a half later, Jesse sends him a text -

_Boarding now. I love you._

_x Jesse_

Andrew smiles too wide at his phone and he can't quite keep the grin off of his face for the rest of the day.)

*

The first week that Jesse's gone goes terribly.

Andrew's all but moved into Jesse's flat, and he sees no reason that he should leave now (well, he can think of a hundred reasons he _should_ but he's never been good at following the rules), so he doesn't. He spends his days reading and looking at Jesse's maps on the walls, and it's like having Jesse there with him except that it isn't.

It's like right after the movie ended, when they'd both been so high on the promise of _we'll keep in touch_ but hadn't been able to keep it up.

Andrew'd wanted too much from the start and so he'd tried to hide it, to appear more aloof than he was; and Jesse had pulled away from that, hid himself in his own skin.

 _And, and, and_. A thousand ways Andrew should have handled it but didn't (and he's glad for it, because the way they are now is brilliant).

But - it hurts, to be in Jesse's flat all by himself, to look at the maps he knew too well (from nights _before_ , living together, falling asleep on Jesse's couch and waking up in the middle of the night) and not have Jesse there with him, soft breathing comforting him to sleep.

It hurts, is all.

*

After that week, he can't handle it.

He knows what this makes him seem like, but he Skypes Jesse, something simple ( _hey i miss you let's talk???_ ) and the twenty minutes it takes to get a response send him spiraling into a fit of worry, but it's worth it to see Jesse's face on his screen.

Andrew grins, wide. "Hey," and he leans into his computer, as though that'll make Jesse closer to him.

Jesse swallows, looking down. "Hey."

"You okay?"

A shrug is all he gets. "I, um." Jesse pauses. "I miss you a terrible amount."

Andrew grins. "You had me worried there for a moment, Jess."

"No, I mean." Jesse pauses, gathering his words; Andrew can almost see the gears in his head turning. "I miss you - too much, I think."

"I miss you, too."

" _No_ , you're not getting it." Jesse lifts up his hands, and they're shaking. "I can't - I need you here with me. I'm - I don't want to be here, I want to be with you. I'm not good at long-distance."

He looks absolutely miserable, and Andrew doesn't know why. "Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I'm going to be gone a few more weeks," he continues as though he hasn't heard Andrew, "and I don't - it can't be once a week that we talk, Andrew."

So that's what it is.

Andrew grins. "All right, then. Shall we set a time every night or just whenever it's convenient?"

Jesse frowns at the camera. "You're not - okay."

"What is it?"

"Just." Jesse pauses. "Why didn't you talk to me sooner, then?"

"Because I didn't want to seem over-bearing."

"That's my job, isn't it?" Jesse smiles, self-deprecating even in that action.

"No - hey." Andrew frowns. "Are you all right?"

Jesse shrugs. "Just lonely, is all."

"Well, I love you." Andrew smiles, reaching out to pat the screen. "I love you an absurd amount, you silly boy."

Jesse bites at his lip. "I love you, too." 

It's the first time Andrew's heard it, and it makes his mouth stretch into a too-wide grin, his cheeks turn pink. "Good," he manages, "because - well."

Jesse laughs, sounding happier even now, and Andrew's worry lessens (if only slightly).

*

They keep talking on Skype, every day after that.

Andrew feels his heart clench less, and he walks around Jesse's flat, showing him his cats, his maps, everything.

"I know you know what it looks like," he whispers one evening, "but it's like - I want you to see it."

"I do, too." Jesse grins. "I want to see what it looks like from your end. I know what I think of everything. I like seeing your perspective."

Andrew smiles, sleepy and happy. "I love you," he says.

Jesse laughs, quiet. "You're tired."

"'m not."

"You only ever say it like that when you're tired."

Andrew thinks he catches something off in Jesse's voice but he's too close to sleep to comment on it, and so he lets himself fall.

(In the morning, it tells him Jesse stayed online for a half hour after he fell asleep. Andrew should find that creepy, but instead it's endearing.)

*

Andrew all but mauls him when Jesse gets back.

"I missed you so much," he whispers into the curve of Jesse's neck, and breathes him in, fingers shaking where he's holding him. "I don't think you understand - so much, Jess, _god_."

Jesse laughs, a short, brittle sound, and nods. "I - you, too."

Andrew pulls back. "You okay?"

"Tired," and he looks it, absolutely exhausted. He's tanner, too, his hair shorter and blonder, and Andrew smiles at him, feeling oddly protective of this Jesse, who's been harassed and just needs to get home.

"I'll make us food when we get there," he says, and he's smiling, "if you like."

"After a nap," Jesse says around a yawn.

(Andrew doesn't make dinner. 

He orders pizza and they eat it on paper plates when Jesse wakes back up, sitting and stretching on the couch.

Andrew kisses him and his fingers leave grease marks on the side of Jesse's neck, and he laughs but doesn't wipe them away, stares at them until Jesse rubs at them, self-conscious.)

It's nice, having Jesse back. Andrew's missed his presence; the flat feels so much more _full_ with Jesse here, now. The cats seem happier too.

"I hear you," Andrew tells them. He misses Jesse when he's not around too.

*

"I love you," Jesse tells him as he's leaving for the grocery store.

Andrew looks up, surprised. It's not like Jesse to just throw that out, and he grins, biting his lip. "What's that?"

Jesse rolls his eyes. "You heard me," he says, sounding falsely perturbed.

"It's just nice to hear it, is all," Andrew says, and shrugs.

*

"I love you," he hears, very determined, when Jesse gets back.

Andrew walks out of their bedroom and gapes a bit. Jesse's holding flowers (tulips, Andrew's favorite) and biting his lip.

"Um."

"You're -"

"Yeah," Jesse says, and smiles a bit, gesturing at the flowers. "Saw them and they were - um - on sale so I thought I'd pick them up for you." He looks down at them, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I should've gone with -"

"No, love, they're perfect." Andrew takes them out of his hands, sets them on the table, and cups Jesse's cheeks. "What's this about, then?"

Jesse shrugs. "Can't I do something nice for you?"

"You don't usually buy me flowers at the store, Jess. Something wrong?"

He shakes his head, quick. "Not wrong, just - I feel bad, sometimes. I'm not good at - telling you - but I do, I love you so much - it's just hard to say it, you know, when I don't even love myself." He pulls away from Andrew to gesture sort of wildly, arms flailing. "It's like - there's only so much to go around and it ends up being focused on me and I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be." Andrew kisses him on the forehead, smiling. "I promise."

"But I want you to know," Jesse says.

His earlier words come back to him, and Andrew frowns. "I misspoke."

"You didn't. I don't say it enough."

"You do." Andrew smiles. "I don't want you to - god, to force yourself to say it or to buy me flowers when I get insecure."

"It's what you'd do for me," Jesse says, and, okay, he has him there. But it's not as though Andrew needs it. Jesse's fragile, and Andrew _likes_ buying him things, showering him in affection. 

"I love you," Jesse says as he turns to face the wall, not determined this time but soft, a little bit sad. "Really. I just - I want you to be sure of it, I don't want you to have to question it."

"I don't," and Andrew kisses him on the shoulder, wrapping his arms around Jesse's waist. "And I love you, too, you know."

Jesse smiles. "Good."

"Good," Andrew says, and he hopes that's the end of it (but, of course, it isn't).

*

Jesse starts pulling away, almost imperceptibly but not quite.

Andrew doesn’t call him out on it at first (it’s not his place; if Jesse’s been feeling shitty, well, Andrew’s not going to be the one to make him talk about it until he’s ready) but as time goes on, and they end up in separate rooms more often than not, he can’t help it.

“Jess?” he says, one day when he walks out of the bathroom to Jesse eating a bowl of cereal, “can we talk a minute?”

Jesse looks up, smiling, and nods. He folds the paper (since when does he read the paper?) and his hands. “Yeah?”

Andrew slides into the chair across from him and watches as Jesse’s back straightens, his mouth tightens a bit.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Andrew asks, because honesty is always the best policy (right?). 

Jesse shakes his head. “I’m not.” He looks down at his cereal, fiddling with his spoon.

“ _Jess_.” Andrew grabs his hand and Jesse jumps as though he’s been shocked. “If there’s something wrong, you can tell me.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re lying.”

(He’s terrified it’s something big; that Jesse wants to leave him, that Andrew’s just not enough anymore. But he has to know, has to be sure Jesse’s still happy.)

“I just... well.” Jesse frowns. “I think I want - to come out.”

Andrew stares at him. “What.”

“You know.” His hands shake. “Tell people that I like - well, guys, but mainly you. If you’re okay with it.”

“If I’m - you idiot,” Andrew says, and he’s grinning.

Jesse swallows. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” and he stands up to walk to Jesse, kiss him hard, press him against the table. “You need to just talk to me about these things, love.”

“I didn’t - didn’t know,” Jesse whispers, leaning back, letting Andrew suck a mark into his collarbone, “if you’d want to and I didn’t want to bring it up and have you--”

“Less talking,” Andrew says, and Jesse laughs, leads him to the couch.

Andrew finds himself being pressed against it, Jesse hovering over him, quirking an eyebrow. “So when do you want to do this?”

“Now?” Andrew offers, and pushes his hips up, grinning. “I mean, unless there’s something you’d rather do.”

“Not _this_ , you idiot,” but it’s fond. “I mean - coming out. As a couple.”

Andrew laughs. “Should just kiss, give the internet a field day.”

“Because that sounds like a good idea,” Jesse says dryly. “My publicist would thank me, I’m sure.”

Andrew smiles. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”

Jesse kisses him.

*

When it does happen (as it was bound to), it's almost anti-climactic.

Andrew's built himself up for the double interview, the holding hands, the stuttering and the _I love him, and I always have_. He's ready for that.

What he isn't ready for is Jesse to fucking say it on live television.

(How it goes is this.

Jesse's on Conan O'Brian, and he's grinning at something he's said.

"So you're back hanging out with your old co-star," Conan says, raising an eyebrow. "How's that been?"

"Oh, wonderful," and Jesse can't help the smile (watching at home, Andrew bites his lip, wanting to give him a hug). "He's really brilliant, I love it, I love him."

"Love, eh?" Conan raises an eyebrow (and this is how Andrew knows something's up, because no one questions that, least of all _Conan O'Brian_ ).

Jesse nods, and he breathes in and out before saying "We're dating, actually."

There's a half-second of silence, and then the room fucking explodes. Jesse looks a bit taken aback, blinking at the crowd, all trying to ask questions.

Conan manages to quiet them down and then looks at Jesse, something like fondness in his eyes. "You're together?"

Jesse smiles. "We are. I - well, I've been in love with him for a very long time."

"And does he know you're telling everyone tonight?"

"We've planned to come out, as it were - but no." Jesse looks at the camera, gives a little wink. "Surprise, I guess."

Back at home, Andrew lets out a dry sob; because watching Jesse talk about him is beautiful. He can see the way his entire _being_ lights up, the way he can't keep still (more than usual), the way the love shows through.

Andrew is also a teenage girl. But he can deal with it.

After a moment, Conan turns back to Jesse. "So how'd it happen?"

"Well, we, um -" and Jesse's telling the story with as many hand-flailing movements as he always uses, but Andrew's turning something around in his mind.

 _I've been in love with him for a very long time_.

Does that mean - 

Has Jesse wanted Andrew just as long as he's wanted him?

Andrew bites his lip, and he thinks back to filming, to all the late nights spent in their flat, to shitty pizza eaten over well-worn scripts. Jesse smiled at him back then the way he does now; more subdued, perhaps, guarded, but the same, essentially.

He's not sure why this is coming as such a shock to him. He's loved Jesse since he walked in and saw this scrawny kid with a head full of curls switch so efficiently from Jesse (sarcastic, with a wide smile) to Mark (calculating, biting) and back. 

_This kid's brilliant_ , he'd thought then, just as he does now.

The interview wraps up and Andrew's hands are shaking, as he's sure Jesse's are.)

When Jesse gets home, he's all but attacked by Andrew wrapping his arms around him in a bear hug.

"So you're not mad?" Jesse asks, almost sheepish.

Andrew pulls back, raises an eyebrow. "Mad?"

"Well, I kind of outed us on live television. There aren't any take-backs." He looks a little bit sick to his stomach. Andrew definitely wants to kiss that look off of his face. "I'm sorry, I wasn't really thinking -"

"Jess. I'm not mad. Promise."

Jesse looks at him under his lashes, biting his lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Andrew grins. "So you're - okay. We're officially a couple now."

"I don't think we can ever be _official_ ," Jesse says, shrugging.

"Why's that?"

"I don't have a Facebook." He laughs. "Isn't that what the kids say? _It's not real unless it's Facebook official_?"

Andrew rolls his eyes and can't keep from kissing him, hands wrapping around his waist more tightly. He presses him against the wall, kissing his neck.

Jesse tilts his head back, lets out a soft noise. "I did want to ask you. But then - I thought it might be best if you didn't know, you know? You might be less nervous."

"Jesus, Jess, you don't have to worry about me."

He pulls back enough to look at Andrew, very seriously. "Let me worry, okay?"

"Okay, Jess," Andrew whispers, and kisses him, lets himself be pulled to the couch.

*

The awards season sneaks up on both of them.

They know, intellectually, that the influx of interviews and screenings means something; but that's lost in the flurry of new love, of coffee at ungodly hours of the morning and late nights spent in bed.

Andrew, at least, forgets about it until roughly a week before the Golden Globes, when he has a fitting for a suit.

And then it's the show, and he's fingering at a box in his pocket, trying to think of the best way to say it.

(He has to do it here. It's fitting, if nothing else; he and Jesse became _AndrewandJesse_ here, for the second time.)

Jesse smiles at him but it's forced, and for the first time that evening Andrew really notices how freaked he looks.

"Hey," he whispers, and presses a kiss to the top of Jesse's head. "You're okay, love."

"I know." Jesse breathes out, shaky. "I know."

"Will you do me a favor?" Andrew asks, heart racing.

"Mm," Jesse says, non-commital.

"Marry me?"

Jesse looks at him, mouth agape. "Wh -"

"I'm not kidding." Andrew bites his lip. "I have a ring but I thought you'd want it to be - mroe private, I dunno."

"So you propose _on the red carpet_."

Andrew doesn't say anything, but his heart's still racing; Jesse hasn't answered yet.

"Oh, you - fuck," Jesse breathes, and in the next beat, "of course I'll marry you, Jesus."

"Andrew will do," but he can't keep the grin off of his face, kissing Jesse hard, not giving a fuck if they're being photographed.

He pulls out the ringbox when they're at the table and watches Jesse slip it on and stare at it, looking amazed.

"I love you," Jesse whispers, hand at his mouth.

"I love you, too," Andrew says, and lets Jesse lean into him for just that moment.


End file.
